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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882548">Fanaa</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet'>Lilibet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October 2020 prompts [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Hermit Obi-Wan Kenobi, Light Angst, M/M, this could also totally be read as gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:47:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It appears one morning.</p><p>Like a mist rolling inland from the sea. Except there’s no water here, in this desolate landscape where he has resigned himself to isolation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October 2020 prompts [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fanaa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts"></a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the whumptober and angstober day 8 prompts "isolation" and "mist".</p><p><i>Fanaa</i> - the "passing away" or "annihilation" (of the self). Fana means "to die before one dies".</p><p>For nibs, who we in the Quiobi discord have noticed and would like to thank for reading so many of our fics :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>It appears one morning.</p><p>Like a mist rolling inland from the sea. Except there’s no water here, in this desolate landscape where he has resigned himself to isolation.</p><p>A curl of coolness drifts over him, a shock from the humid heat of the day. It brushes across his cheek, caressing his skin for a barely-there moment before disappearing as quickly as it came.</p><p>Obi-Wan think he’s going mad because he could swear it felt like it had...intent.</p><p>He’s on edge for the rest of the day, awaiting the mysterious sensations return.</p><p>When he falls asleep, alone in the too-small rickety bed, it brushes through his hair.</p><p>--</p><p>It doesn’t return until weeks later when he’s all but forgotten about the strange encounter. But instead of a mist, passive and unassuming, it’s like the wind, strong and unwavering.</p><p>It brushes past Obi-Wan with a strength that surprises him. Goosebumps erupt on his forearms and he whirls round, a shout reflexively rising in his throat.</p><p>But there’s nothing here in this empty shell of this hole he calls a house.</p><p>Just the ghost that haunts it, a remnant of a people, of a culture and ideals that the galaxy is quick to forget about.</p><p>And now, it seems the ghost has its own ghost too.</p><p>--</p><p>It doesn’t feel malicious. This...intent. It’s the best way Obi-Wan can describe it. It gusts through him, brushes past him, slams cupboards shut as though it’s trying to get his attention rather than spook or intimidate him.</p><p>After a few weeks, it starts to push things off the kitchen table and off shelves, like a petulant lothcat intent on harmless destruction. It makes Obi-Wan chuckle, a rough raw sound that he can’t remember that last time he made as he playfully scolds it. <em>That was his nicest tin of tea thank you, it better start treating his belongings kindly if it wishes to stay.</em></p><p>After that, a more playful feeling accompanies it whenever it appears.</p><p>He chatters to it, whether he feels it’s presence or not. There’s not much to talk about mind you, it’s not like Obi-Wan does much these days other than tend his small homestead and walk to the market to buy supplies.</p><p>A true hermit.</p><p>But he talks nonetheless, while cultivates what passes for a tiny garden on this desert planet.</p><p>He wishes Qui-Gon were here.</p><p>He would love it.</p><p>--</p><p>Nearly a year after it first appeared, he sees him.</p><p>He feels a gust breeze through the room, the rattle of a glass on the side and he turns with a smile on his face, ready to playfully admonish it.</p><p>The words never make it out of his throat.</p><p>They stick there, lodged in his throat, choking him until he can’t breathe.</p><p>Qui-Gon stands before him, a translucent spectre of his old master standing before him.</p><p>Obi-Wan truly thinks he’s gone mad now, that the heat and isolation has finally gone to his head.</p><p>He stares at Qui-Gon, who smiles softly at him. “Hello, my Obi-Wan,”</p><p>And of all things, it’s that voice that does him in. It sounds exactly the way he remembers it, warm and deep, rolling through him like a rumble of thunder.</p><p>He crumples where he stands, knees hitting the hard ground with a sickening crack, but he barely feels the impact. His eyes blur with tears and he feels the cool presence of Qui-Gon rush to his side, and it’s only now that he belatedly realises that the mist is Qui-Gon.</p><p>It’s always been Qui-Gon.</p><p>Forever by his side, even in death.</p><p>Of course Qui-Gon wouldn’t let something as inconvenient as death stop him.</p><p>Obi-Wan sobs harder, Qui-Gon’s incorporeal form so unlike the warmth of his master when he was alive as he tries to comfort him. But Obi-Wan can’t stop the sobs wracking his chest.</p><p>He doesn’t think he’s ever sobbed like this, even after everything fell apart in the worst way he could imagine. There was always something to do, some next assignment to focus on and ignore the despair festering in his heart. Even staying on Tattooine, each day he focuses on surviving until the next, and the next, until one day he will die. Alone, with nought but his sadness.</p><p>When he finally calms, his sobs reduced to hiccoughing breaths, he scrubs the tears out of his eyes. Qui-Gon is looking at him helplessly, as lost as Obi-Wan is and unable to comfort him in the way he so clearly wants to.</p><p>“How?” Obi-Wan whispers. His voice is raspy and hesitant, wanting the answer as much as he’s afraid of it.</p><p>He needs to know whether Qui-Gon’s miraculous appearance is a permanent thing, because he doesn’t think he’ll survive it if he lets himself hope, only to be disappointed.</p><p>“I sought this knowledge many years ago. But my training was incomplete, and I have not been able to manifest myself physically until now. But even this,” he gestures to himself, “is difficult to maintain. I can’t hold it much longer.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s eyes widen in panic and he reflexively goes to grab Qui-Gon, as he can somehow physically hold him here in this plane of existence, but his hand slips straight through Qui-Gon’s shoulder.</p><p>“No, please! Don’t go, don’t leave me again. I can’t, I can’t.”</p><p>He starts rocking on the floor, the panic of being left alone after being granted this gift too much for him to handle. He can’t let Qui-Gon go after so little time, there are too many things he wants to say, things he wants to do and explain and –</p><p>“Obi-Wan, look at me.”</p><p>He barely hears Qui-Gon’s words. They buzz in his ears and he tries to pay attention to them, but he can’t focus, they sound like gibberish and he just can’t, he can’t, <em>he can’t</em>.</p><p>“Obi-Wan.”</p><p>The firm hand on his shoulder shocks Obi-Wan out of his panic and he looks up sharply. The touch melts away as quickly as it came, Qui-Gon unable to hold the corporeal form for longer than a few seconds.</p><p>Obi-Wan’s skin tingles for long minutes afterwards as he realises how long it’s been since he had any sort of physical content with another being.</p><p>He can’t remember the last time.</p><p>“I am always here, Obi-Wan. Even though you cannot see me, that does not mean I am not here.”</p><p>Qui-Gon starts to fade and he rushes out his last few words as they trail off into silence.</p><p>“I will always be with you, my Obi-Wan.”</p><p> </p>
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